


A Thousand Times

by Bakerstreethound



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakerstreethound/pseuds/Bakerstreethound
Summary: You return to Moriarty, desperate to be out of his clutches though he always manages to need your hitman services time after time, bringing you back to his web. You tire of his games with Sherlock, but he isn’t finished toying with your heart.
Relationships: Jim Moriarty/Reader, Jim Moriarty/You, Sherlock Holmes - Relationship
Kudos: 6





	A Thousand Times

**Author's Note:**

> Just note that reader is a hitman & I sort of constructed this exchange/event to happen around sometime between the end of the Hound of the Baskervilles and during The Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock is briefly mentioned & you can decide what you will the nature of the reader’s relationship with Jim. Also, thanks for sticking around! I know I haven’t been writing much but I appreciate you guys so much for supporting me and my work! There’s a prompt included in this work I got from @givethispromptatry and I rearranged it to fit my story. Happy reading and thank you once again!

“Well well, the prodigal returns.”

His voice sent tremors down your spine, body turning cold as his fingertips touched your skin, icy and cold; deadly as his heart. 

You resisted the urge to reach around his neck and savor the remaining pulses of his heart. 

“I don’t want any part in this anymore Jim, I told you last time. I’m done.” 

“And yet, you haven’t moved towards the door. Need me to sing you a lullaby, huh? Just like the good old times.”

Jim circled you, a boyish grin creeping up onto a face you once loved, making you release a sigh. 

He always got what he wanted. No matter how many women threw themselves at his feet, he always searched the room for you, his mass-murdering psychotic hitman. 

You hardly ever left his side, making you the envy of most. 

Alas, times had changed. 

“Seriously. I’m through thinking about you, let alone what the hell you need me for.”

This time hung in the air as an afterthought, but he was smart enough to understand your frustration.

“Ah she does wonder about me,” he chuckled, bringing his hands to the small of your back, lips a breath away. You willed your painted lips in a smile. 

“Yeah, you sound so shocked. You invade my nightmares and I’m done being your ploy to get to Sherlock.”

“Admit it. You love it and it’s so much fun. Don’t you think so? The look on his face would be priceless.”

“After all you did to me? Do you think I want to destroy him and his reputation over and over again? I’m nothing like you, nor will I ever be. I’m tired of my heart burning when I wish for what could have been.”

You took a breath, meeting his stony gaze which bore into you deeper than the pits of hell. His grip tightened, eyes flickering to your lips once more. 

“It’s just-”

“It’s always been about both of you and your stupid games,” you hissed, cutting him off and reveling as his eyes flickered with pent up fury.

“It’s always the game. I’m through being a pawn, Jim. I don’t care if it’s your business on the line. I don’t. Have fun with Parliament or whatever rudimentary way you choose to pass your time. Maybe you should look for a better class of detectives to piss off. You’ll never lay another finger on Sherlock Holmes. I guarantee it.”

“My my how you’ve fallen. What on earth would the angels think of you now, love? You always had a soft heart,” an easy smile fell over his face, doing little to mask the violence and malevolence residing within him. “Please, take care of it. Wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.” 

“Jim, if you’re implying in any way that I...”

“Oh, love you’ve already told me what I need to know. Tread carefully, soft hearts are so easily crushed.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I already have.” 

His pursed lips, strides carefree as he turned and walked away from you telling you all you needed. 

All the breath left your lungs as you struggled to gasp for air, heart-wrenching in your chest as you took a few steps, slouching against the wall. You would not crumble, not while he was vacating the premises. 

You couldn’t bear to walk back to your flat, to see the bloodstains that you knew were inevitable, littering the concrete. 

He was long gone. 

All the words you wanted to say, all of it mattered for not. Jim had ripped out the coils of your heart a thousand times over, spilling their vials on the concrete mingling with your perished detective who you’d never set eyes on again.


End file.
